In The Wind And The Light
by SolarRuby17
Summary: The war is over. Medeus is dead, and the world is rebuilding. But for the wind mage Merric, the conflict of the past have never fully healed.
1. Chapter 1

**In the Wind and the Light**

(A/N) Ok, I'm fumbling around with my new computer's word program and it's giving me a barrel of trouble. Or else I may have actually gotten this posted a long time ago. It took me awile to dust this old story off. Of course, it was so old, it needed to be completely re-done. Which is why I'm here.

Personal rant aside, let's see how this goes over.

(Edit- I'm reworking all the existing chapters while I work on the new one.)

**The Wind Mage Trilogy; Part One**

* * *

_Chapter One_

The autumn breeze blew gently over the Altean landscape, scattering orange leaves about. Birds of many colors danced through the air, as the creatures of the ground skittered through the yellowing grass. The sun hung low in the horizon, though it had not yet begun to set, as it began to paint the sky a gentle pink. A single mage observed the scene from his study's window, the breeze ruffling his emerald hair.

That mage was Merric, wind sage of Altea.

Merric sighed, continuing to gaze at the horizon from his lofty study, which stood in one of Castle Altea's towers. It was a gift from the Hero-King Marth. Who just happened to be his childhood friend.

Merric closed his window, slowly making his way through the throng of books scattered everywhere.  
He took a seat at his desk, dropping into his seat with a thud. Running a hand through his tousled hair, the exasperated mage began looking through his books.

It had been nearly two years sense the War of Shadows had ended. Though most of the world was still in some kind of rebuilding stage from that catastrophic event, most of the world's major cities had been mostly restored.

Macedon was doing well enough, with Minerva working tirelessly to restore her weakened country to glory. And it showed in the Macedonian princess. She always looked exhausted and worn down, with the dissapearance of her sister not helping at all.  
Gra was doing surprisingly well. The only real problem it was experiencing was selecting a new heir to the throne. Though... there were rumors floating around that one of Joil's children still lived.  
Grust was in terrible shape. With their King and most of their knights and nobles dead in the wake of the war, it was on the verge of total collapse. Lorenze was doing his best to keep his kingdom together, but it wasn't looking to good. The Holy Kingdom was offering what support it could, but getting supplies that far west was still treacherous.  
Archenea and Arulis were probably the best off. Under the rule of the new Holy King Hardin, most of the eastern side of the world was flourishing. Talys included.  
Altea was close behind, with most of the small kingdom already restored. Under King Marth and Queen Cadea, as well as the Princess Elice, the kingdom was doing very well.

And speaking of the princess, her wedding was quickly approaching. Oddly enough, Merric was ardently trying to avoid going, much to the dismay of everyone. It was also the reason he currently had himself locked in his study. Just as he had for days now.

Merric pulled a particularly large tome from the pile. Blowing the dust off its plain black cover, he began flipping through its pages. Its title was scribed vibrantly on the first page.

_"The Dark Dragon and the Sword of Light"_

Merric had written this account himself. And what better way to get away from the present then to lose oneself in the past.

* * *

_Circa year 724, month of the scorpion. Chiasmir Bridge. 273 days sense departing Talys._

Merric sat against a tree overlooking the Chiasmir river, scribbling random notes down on a small parchment. The woods behind him hid the Archenean League as they prepared their passage across the bridge, and the ridge he sat on gave him a good view of their target.

The mage let out a long sigh, before sliding the pages he had into the depths of his azure robes. For once, he was actually thankful for his bulky choice of clothing. While his light robes had left him nimble, they did little good for his health as they had marched through the heat of the deserts of Kahdien.

Merric shivered a bit at the memory. At least it was cool enough here in Grust this time of year to actually benefet from his robes.

"Got room in your musings for one more?" A voice said from behind him.

Merric nearly jumped at the sudden noise. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder as he turned to look who had joined him.

Linde.

Merric let out a sigh of relief. Moving himself over slightly, the wind mage motioned for Linde to join him. With a light giggle, she did, hanging her legs over the ledge, letting them dangle in the light breeze.  
"You seem a bit fidgety today." She said, giving his shoulder a playful push.  
Merric grinned sheepishly. "I'm that obvious?" He said, before letting out a sigh. His face quickly turned crestfallen as he gazed into the distance. He could see at the very ends of his vision the marshaling of the Sable Order.  
Linde looked at him curiously, before looking to the horizon herself, then back at him. "Merric? Something is really bothering you. What is it?"

Merric shook his head. "We've been through allot, is all. It's starting to take it's toll on me." He made a sweeping motion across the sky with his hand. "I've caused so much death, all in the name of liberation." He planted his head back into the palm of his hands. "But I have to wonder... How many of them were good people? Just fighting for the sake of their families? Believing they were doing the right thing?"

After a moment of tense silence, Merric looked back up to his companion. Linde's face quietly stared at him, her lips a thin line and her expression unreadable. Merric looked puzzled for a moment, before Linde started to shake her head.

"Perhaps you're right. Maybe there are good people that stand against us. And it may be a tragedy that we slay them. But if we don't... Every good person in the world will likely be dead. I know it sounds cruel, but that's how it is."

Merric nodded slowly, the sadness still not leaving his eyes. "But... What if people hate me for it? Like they do Sir Horace? Death like this rarely goes unpaid."

Linde slid slightly closer to Merric, sliding one arm around his waist and leaning her head on his shoulder. He tensed for a moment before relaxing.

"No matter what others say, Merric. I beileve you are a good person. And you... Matter to me."

Merric's face reddened a bit. He still wasn't used to all the affection he got from the light mage, despite their friendly relationship. He never did get much praise back in Kahdien. Even as a star pupil, the most friendly company he ever got was from his teacher Wendell. And he wasn't the most engaging person to talk to at times.

Merric shook his head, clearng his thoughts. Looking down to Linde on his shoulder, he felt a sliver of peace in his heart as she stared with half-lidded eyes out to the clear blue skys. Merric took a deep breath, placing a light kiss on the younger woman's forehead. Linde made a light sound at the sudden contact, looking up slightly shocked at the equally embarressed wind mage.

"Err... Sorry. I wasn't thinking and you just looked so calm and beautiful and-" He was silenced as Linde gently brushed her lips against him, making his face turn slightly darker. "And... And, you matter to me too." He added in a whisper.

Linde gently shook her head, resting her forehead against his, her face reddening just as quickly as his. The distance between the two slowly growing smaller...

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Merric and Linde shot apart, faces turning redder then they already were.  
The wind mage coughed lightly while Linde made it to look like she was wiping something from her robes. Merric turned to face their newest companion to see the woodsman-turned-warrior Cord leaning up against a nearby tree, smiling widely.

"If you two are done making out, Their Majesties would like to see you, Merric, in the command tent." Cord said, before turning and leaving.

Merric slowly stood back up flollowing Cord back to the rest of the miltia. He gave Linde one last glance, to see her calmy staring back up at the sky. A smile crossed his lips, before fading slowly.

_What was that all about, Merric?_ He scolded himself. He knew as much as the next guy relationships could be dangerous, expecially with them all so close to danger all the time. He shook his head vigorously. He was probably overthinking it. So far, despite all reason, the Leauge had suffered no deaths. Injuries, however, were something else. Nothing the clerics and bishops couldn't handle, but they do keep people off their feet for a few days.

Merric pushed his way through the azure cloth of the command tent, and was immidiately met by the eyes of his commanders. Minerva looked at him simply, nodding in his direction. Her grip on the greataxe at her side never loosened. Nyna stood between Lord Hardin and Prince Marth, who had Princess Caeda at his other side.

"Your Majesties." Merric said, giving a slight bow to his lords. Hardin rubbed his forehead, clearly tired out, before waving the mage over.  
"Sorry for intruding, Merric, but I heard you had a good view of the enemy. Anything you care to share?" Hardin asked. Merric sighed, walking up to the map they had placed on the table in the room's center.

"It seems that Grust is very keen on not letting up get to the Fane of Ramen. They have the Sable Order packed quite tightly in all the outposts here." Merric said, pointing to a landstrip that marked the halfway point of the bridge. Nyna visibly tensed when the Sable Order was mentioned. "Mostly paladins and cavaliers. They also seem to be wising up, and keeping their clerics and curates in the back, armed with physic staffs."

While the others seemed to contemplate this new information, Nyna spoke up. "You didn't happen to see who was leading them, did you?"  
"Why does it matter?" Minerva shot back, quiteing the smaller Empress.  
"I... Nothing just- I heard that the Order was lead by a brilliant general. I wondered if he was riding with them today..." Nyna said meekly.  
That caught Hardin's attention. "You must mean General Camus. I am told Dolhr is not very happy with him at the moment, brilliant or not. Something about acting outside orders... They'll be keeping him on a short leash; I don't expect we'll see him here."

Nyna looked oddly sad. "That... is good news." She spoke in barely a whisper.

* * *

The first push across the bridge had been surprisingly successful. Cain and Able lead the charge, with Horace and Draug protecting their flanks as Minerva and the Whitewings flew down and picked off the almost helpless soldiers. With no aerial riders of their own, and few archers, they put up little resistance.

Merric stood next to his Prince, tossing around powerful spells at any who dared approach. Which was more them anyone had anticipated. They seemed very keen on killing Marth. The emerald-haired mage wasn't to keen on defencive duty, but at least the routine straggler who would make it to them kept him on his toes. He would rather be closer to the front lines, aside Linde where he could do the most damage.

Merric shook his head for the umpteenth time today. He really should cast the lithe mage from his mind. It wasn't helping him. An arrow that nearly caught him in the chest cemented that in pretty well. He heard someone shout, pointing to the sky effectively shaking him from his thoughts. A lone pegasus knight was flying right towards him. Or, rather, Marth. The wind mage readied his trademark Excalibur tome, winds whirling around him as he prepared to blast the knight out of the sky.

Marth grabbed his arm, interupting the spell. Merric gave the prince a dumbfounded look. The pegasus knight landed just in front of them, making Merric jump a bit as he readied his spell again.

"Hold, mage!" She said in a shrill voice, throwing her hands into the air. Minerva landed next to them a second after, making Merric jump a second time. He would never get used to people falling out of the sky like that, riding giant dragons or flying horses.

"Prince Marth. We have taken the fort. We launch our main offencive in..." Minerva began, before the pegasus knight finaly caught her attention. Her constant emotionless mask broke for a moment, showing relief and even happiness. "Est?"

"Greetings, my princess." Est said shyly, giving a slight bow from the back of her mount. After giving a look around, her expression turned cheerful. "I got something that you might be interested in, Prince Marth." Est rode beside Marth, Merric tensing slightly. Pulling a scabbard of the side of her pegasus, Est handed it to Marth. The prince took it, examining the object for a moment, before pulling the balde from it's sheath.  
"It's the specteral sword, the Mercurius!" Est said happily. "I pilfered it from Grust as I made my escape. It's also the reason I couldn't join you sooner. My deepest apologies." Est gave a apologetic bow to both the prince and the princess.  
Marth admired the blade's shining teal edge, before re-sheathing it. "I thank you, Est."

"Princess!" Someone yelled frantically, causing everyone to turn to face the voice.  
Minerva turned to see a harried Etzel making his way to them. "A wave of Grust paladins just arived and are hitting our defences! Horace and Rodger have them for now, but we need air support!" The dark mage yelled before quickly turning around and heading back.  
Minerva nodded, looking to Est, who nodded back. The two of them took flight, leaving Marthand Merric alone again. "Let's go." Marth said, motioning for the wind mage to follow.

* * *

Merric was snapped out of his flashback as he became aware of the thudding on his door. Letting out an overblown sigh, He went to go check the door. Pushing open the eyehole, he was met with a head of pink hair. A smile cossed his face. Of course, she would be the first amoungst those to show up concerned about him.

Unlocking the door, he was immidiately confronted with the worried expression of Est.  
"Are you... Allright? We're kinda worried about you." She said shyly, letting herself into his room. She raised her eyebrows at the state of Altean sage's room. He never let it get like this before... "Really, Merric. What's wrong?"

Merric sat himself back down. Explaining it all to someone might help. "Lock the door, please. I'll tell you about it..."

* * *

_A/N You like? Let me know what you all think of it! Seriously, reviews are my friends. And I've never gotten one before. It would make me very happy... And for those who want to get nitpicky, I am fully aware that I bent the canon in several places, and it's going to keep happening that way. Now, as this is the first fic I've gotten around to posting, any and all feedback would be massively appreciated. Flames will be used to make Bolganon tomes! Oh, and as I lack a beta, spelling errors are probably everywhere. For that, you have my apologies._

_This was mostly an experiment just to try out posting my stuff... so it's quality may not be to exemplary. Ok. Now I'm done ranting._

_Special shout-outs to Mark of the Asphodel and LordCooler, some great authors who I ever aspire to be like._

_Cheers!~_

_PS. Dear thanks to Gunlord500. You are awesome!_


	2. Chapter 2

**In the Wind and the Light**

* * *

**(A/N) I'm so happy! ^_^ Someone liked my story! Low confidence and immature behavior aside, I have decided to, at the behest of a reviewer, list what of the canon I am bending. First off, at the start of the last chapter, it was set two years after the war of shadows (FE 1/11), but the war of heroes (FE 3/12) hasn't happened yet. Despite canonically happening one year after the war of shadows. Marth is hero-king already too, and that didn't happen till after the war of heroes as well. Second off, as this chapter points out quite clearly, Chris, the 'My Unit' from FE 12 appears. Even though he never was technically here during this time slot. Just think of him as an OC, I guess. Thirdly, characters will die, and their importance to the story will have an effect on how everything goes down. But that hasn't happened yet...**

**Ok, I'm done ranting again. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter two

The Fane of Raman definitely showed its age. The bricks were faded and chipped; the tapestries hanging from various places were torn and frayed. Despite its age, some say over a thousand years, it had held up surprisingly well.

Merric cautiously walked down one of the dimly lit halls. He and his team had yet to meet any of the enemy forces.  
"Are you sure we're going to find Gotoh's magical spheres here?" Merric muttered to his team's leader. The red-haired youth shrugged causally, continuing his march forward. Merric let out a sigh.

Chris. How the young man, tactical genius or not, managed to make it into the League was beyond him.

Chris gave a low whistle, causing Julian to run up to his side. He tapped on the wall, causing it to ripple. A moment later, the illusion fell, revealing a heavily locked door. Julian smiled, proceeding to work his trade.  
"How did you do that?" Merric said, approaching Chris.  
"Hm? How did I do what?" He said back, clearly knowing what the green haired mage meant, as he had a wide smile on his face.  
Merric ignored the kid's attitude. "How did you find that door? It was totally hidden. Even I couldn't feel its enchantment."  
Chris shrugged a behavior that was quickly getting on Merric's nerves. "You just aren't as attuned to dark magics as I am, I guess."

That was a bit concerning.

Before he could say anything else, Julian popped up between them, holding the large broken lock in his hands. "Got it." He said with a wide grin.  
Merric shrugged, before proceeding to enter the now unlocked room. Chris' hand hit him in the chest, stopping him cold and nearly knocking the wind out of him. The wind mage shot a rude glare at the young tactician, who just placed a finger over his lips to keep him quite.  
Chris slowly pushed the door open. A heavily armored man stood over a thief, watching him as he worked to break through a magical vault. A moment later, a low click was heard, and a dimly glowing orb dropped into the thief's hand.  
Merric took a step back, reading a Bolganone spell, the flames licking around the base of his cloak. Cord kicked down the door, just as the large fireball sailed through the air. The thief didn't even see it coming. He was dead before his charred corpse hit the ground.

The warrior, however, was more fortunate. His armor was slightly charred, but that didn't stop his axe from doing its job. Merric ducked as the warrior's axe soared over his head. A loud ring of steel cried out as Cord's axe met his enemies own.  
Chris and Julian took advantage of the moment, as the warriors recoiled from their exchange of blows; both of their swords met their opponent's chest. He gave a last gasp, before collapsing next to his deceased companion.

Cord looked questioningly at the bodies. "I don't recognize this symbol. Who were these people?"

Merric kicked the warrior's body over giving a clear look at the sigil adorning his armor. "These are the men employed directly by Garnef." He snorted. "He is probably here himself to insure that we don't get our hands on the spheres."

Chris, Julian and Cord all looked skeptically at the wind mage. "Wow. Sounds like you really don't like Garnef." Cord said after a moment.

Merric was about to retort, when Chris came up between the two of them, a deep blue sphere, with flecks like stars adorning it, in his hands. The slightly pulsing light it gave off left the room in a calming glow.  
"Let's just hope the other team found the other sphere…"

The four men walked cautiously through the halls. The sun was starting to set outside, and what little light was making it through the Fane's stained glass windows left for limited visibility.

Chris pulled a torch off the wall, lighting it with a quick elfire. A dim orange glow enveloped the area around them.  
"So… What are we doing now?" Julian quipped.  
Chris shrugged again. "Just keep a look out for anyone. Just make sure you don't cut up any allies."  
"Uh-huh…" Julian muttered, pacing quietly around the field of their vision.  
Cord stood close to Chris, his Devil's Axe glowing slightly in the dim light. Merric stood near Julian, his trusty and light Excalibur tome gripped tightly in his hands.

A faint glow in the distance caught their attention. Another torch was approaching them. Merric and the others quickly rounded a nearby corner, shielding them from view.  
"Who do you think it is?" Cord asked, pulling a small hand axe from his side.  
Chris thought for a moment. "Look, everyone. I'm going to toss an elfire over the guy's head. As soon as you get a good look, I want you to either kill them or signal that we aren't hostile."  
Everyone nodded. Merric started summoning his tome's magic, just in case.

Chris jumped out, tossing a quick fireball down the hall. Merric and the others soon followed, weapons raised.

Before anyone could react, an arrow flew through the air, catching Cord in the shoulder.  
"That was a warning shot. Now get over here so we can see you clearly." A familiar voice called out. Merric ground his teeth together in frustration as he work furiously with a small heal staff to keep Cord from bleeding out. He knew that voice. He also knew only one person who could nail a shot like that in the dark.  
"Damnit, Jorge! Get over here!" Merric yelled. They were soon joined by the blonde-haired archer, as well as Lena, Astram and Midia. Lena wordlessly went to Cord's side to help Merric, but not before giving Jorge a withering glare.

Merric felt a dark presence behind them, chilling his bones. "Lena, Astram. Get Cord to a safe place." Merric whispered, his voice telling of his fears. The others looked at him questioningly. Chris seemed to feel it too. "Really. Get him out of here." The young tactician added.  
Astram grudgingly obeyed, hefting the heavy warrior over his shoulder. Lena followed close behind, still channeling healing energies from her staff.

Merric and Chris took the lead, quietly walking through the maze like halls of the Fane. The sun had completely set now, the only light coming from the torches carried by Midia and Julian, who flowed closely behind.

As the dark presence grew stronger, a faint voice was heard, hollow and raspy.

"Tiki… Tiki… Princess-that-was of the Devine Dragons… Do you here my voice?"

Merric and the others came to the end of the hall, a pair of torches lighting the far wall. Garnef stood under a large stained glass painting, a small olive-haired girl stood next to him. She looked slightly dazed, but still clung to the withering mage like her life depended on it.  
"M-hm." She muttered.  
"Defilers have entered the fane. Despoilers! They must be punished." Garnef hissed. Tiki slowly nodded her head.  
"Defilers… In the Fane… Punish… Them.

An evil smile crossed the dark mage's face. Garnef sat the small girl down on a throne-like structure that sat beneath the glass. "Remember, Tiki. Your divine dragon kin perished long ago, and Bantu has abandoned you...I alone am protecting you from Medeus. Remember..."

Tiki nodded again. "You alone... Are protecting me… Punish… The defilers…"

Garnef walked away into the shadows, his presence fading as soon as he was out of sight.

Merric shook his head. If ever he got a chance, Garnef would pay for his defiling of Kahdien. Merric looked to his sides, motioning for the others to follow him, when he noticed...

Chris wasn't there.

Merric gaped as he saw Chris casually walking up to the dragon girl. The wind mage held Midia and Julian back as they tried to retrieve the young tactician.

Tiki's eyes widened as she saw Chris approach. "N-No… Please… Come no closer."  
Chris smiled kindly at the girl. "Hm… Seems Garnef has placed you under a spell of some kind. Peace now. Awaken."  
Chris put a gentle hand on the girl's head, a light flash shining through the room.  
Tiki rubbed her eyes, letting out a yawn. "Ban-ban? Is that you? Where am I? What happened?"  
Chris rubbed the back of his head. "Ah… No. My name is Chris. I came here with some friends to help." He said hesitantly.  
"I had a terrible dream. I was all alone, and it was dark, and…" She said, swaying from side to side sleepily. She finally opened her eyes, looking with a frightened sadness up to the boy. "I don't want to be alone again... I hate being alone."

Chris gave a knowing nod, wrapping the girl in a gentle hug.

Merric and the others hesitantly joined Chris, looking with amazement as he cradled the Devine Dragonling.

"Will you... Take me with you?" Tiki asked, looking up at Chris, her eyes glistening with unshed tears in the torchlight.

"Of course, Tiki. If that's what you want." Chris said back. Tiki jumped out of his arms, giving a joyful squeal and spinning in circles, viridian hair flying around her.

"Yes, yes it is! Oh, thank you, Chris-san!"

Everyone looked at Tiki. Chris shifted uncomfortably.

"Am I not allowed to call you that?" Tiki said, looking to the ground shyly.

"N- That is... Er... If you want?"

Tiki jump back into his arms, smiling happily. "Thank you, Chris-san!"

Chris motioned for the others to continue, staying behind himself with Tiki.  
Apparently she was quite afraid of the dark.

Merric let out a sigh. Their team was beginning to get outrageous. _No, scratch that,_ He thought, _It's been outrageous for a long time._

Julian tapped his shoulder, catching his attention. Merric whirled around, seeing the thief with his ear against another door.

"What is it?" He whispered. Julian gave him a harsh shush, before going back to listening. Midia drew her lance, reading herself for whatever was in the room.

Julian grabbed the head of her lance, easing it back down to her side. A smile on his face as he opened the door and casually walked in. His head was nearly taken off as someone leveled a sword to his neck. Julian didn't flinch, instead giving a light chuckle.  
Merric and Midia entered the room, just as Marth was re-sheathing Mercurius. The blue-haired prince looked past the thief, glancing happily at his mage friend. Or, rather, the night-blue orb in his hands.

"Good. You found one of them." Ogma said from behind Marth.

"You wouldn't have happened to have found the other one?" Julian piped. Marth regrettably shook his head.  
"We haven't found the Lightsphere, but we did find this." Marth said, holding up a turquoise orb. "I believe I heard some of Garnef's men call it the Geosphere.

Merric nodded, before turning to continue exploring the Fane.

* * *

"Yes. I remember that day..."  
Est sat in the window sill of Merric's study, glancing up ant the crescent moon that hung in the sky as the mage continued his story. "There wasn't enough room for a pegasus or dragon in there, so me and my sisters had to stay behind." She said with a light chuckle.

Merric let out a sigh. "I wonder what Chris is doing these days..." He wondered aloud. He hadn't heard from him in over a year.

"He's fine." Est said, jumping down from the sill. "Last I heard, he was traveling with Etzel. They were in Macedon just recently. It may be they are still there."

Merric gave a tired nod, looking out to the night sky. "It's getting awfully late. You should probably be heading home. Cain is likely getting worried."

Est gave a sad smile, nodding to Merric. He gave a nod back, slumping into his desk. He tensed up as Est wrapped her hands around him in a warm hug. "Don't shut everyone out. There are people here who still care deeply for you."

Before Merric could say anything back, she had left.

Merric sat there, quietly mulling through his thoughts, before pulling a couple of books from the random piles on his desk. Moving through the throng of books, he eventually made it to what had been serving as a makeshift bed for him.

Pulling out a small leather-bound book, Merric read through the pages as he slowly drifted into another dreamless sleep.

* * *

The night air was surprisingly warm, signaling the coming of the new season. Merric walked out of the Fane, Starsphere in hand as he made his way towards the small camp they had set up outside. Nyna broke from the camp, running up to Marth as he and the other's approached.

"Marth. Tell me, do you have the spheres?" She said hopefully.

Marth looked to the ground, a defeated expression on his face. "No. We were not able to find them both." Nyna's face fell at the news. "Oh... I see.

"But... We can't afford any more time searching here. For all Imullhu's power, there has to be some other way to thwart it... We'll have to place our hopes on that..."

Soon, everyone was gathered around the campfire, the group's leaders nearby planning their next movement.

"Were is Chris? This is kind of important..." The exasperated Malledus said as he poured over a map of Grust.  
"You know what else is important?" Chris said, pushing his way into the circle, a sleeping Tiki cradled in his arms, the girl's arms wrapped tightly around his neck . "Is what we are going to do with her."

Bantu noticed the dozing girl, and was immediately at Chris' side, further upsetting the density of the circle of people. Merric forced his way in next, holding up the dimly pulsing Starsphere.

"Um... The sphere is reacting to something." He said, before noticing a similar light coming from Tiki's hands. Bantu noticed it as well, removing a yellowish white stone from her grasp. Tiki stirred slightly, but was quieted by Chris' hushes.

Bantu handed the sphere to Merric. As soon as both orbs were in his hand, they emitted a blinding light. When everyone could see again, they were met with the flickering image of Gotoh. "Ah, I see you have gathered both of the necessary spheres." He said in his usual cryptic voice. "When you are done in Grust, bring both spheres together again, and I shall aid you further."

And then he vanished. Merric stared in amazement at where the image had once stood. Truly, the White Sage's power was far beyond his own.

Malledus cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention as he motioned back to the map. Chris nodded to the elder tactician, then to Bantu. The fire dragon understood, and went to pick Tiki up from Chris' arms.

At least, he tried. As soon as Bantu touched her, she simply muttered something and tightened her grip around the crimson-haired tactician's neck. After some work, Chris managed to convince Bantu to just let her rest where she was.

Merric let out a light laugh at the girl's behavior, before walking away from the rest of the crowd. He took a seat at the edge of camp, staring up into the clear night sky. He loved the stars. Tracking their movements, mapping their constellations... Especially back in Kahdien. On desert nights and a new moon, the stars shone with a incredible brilliance.

Pulling out the Starsphere, which had still been stashed in his robes, he gave into the dancing dots that permeated the whole orb. At least he understood why it was called the Starsphere now. He could just make out the patterns in the lights. There was Sagittarius... And Capricorn, and Gemini, and Virgo, and-

"You know, in the dark like this, those things make you stick out like a manakete in Talys." Cord said from behind with a laugh, startling the wind mage.

"I really wish you would stop doing that..." Merric muttered back, sliding the Starsphere back into his robes.

"Relax, friend. I'm just joking around. I didn't mean it to anger you." Cord said, rubbing the back of his head. "Either way, I do believe there is someone else who wants to see you..."

Cord stepped aside, Linde's smaller form emerging from behind the larger man. She smile sheepishly at the azure-clad mage, slowly making her way to his side.

Cord left with a wide smile. In a war like this, everyone should seize what happiness they could. That was the least he could do for his friend...

* * *

**(A/N) Thanks for reading! If anyone is willing to give me some pointers, on my writing skill or how well I'm implementing my own will on the Fire Emblem universe, I would happily accept it! On another point, I am well aware of how my interpetations of the characters often comes off as... Not very Fire Emblem-ish. Which is to say... Not medieval enough... Or something.**

**Cheers!~**


	3. Chapter 3

**In The Wind And The Light**

* * *

Chapter Three - if you have read this far, you have my deepest gratitude.

* * *

A singular groan broke the peaceful morning silence, as the study's sole occupant rolled over in his makeshift bed. He was seriously regretting sleeping here, and his aching bones agreed. Pushing himself up, Merric made his way to his usual morning spot. The window.

The sun had barely begun to rise, most of the sky still bearing the darkness of night. On the horizon, however, the beautiful rose color of the sun was bleeding into the rest of the celestial body.

It was almost poetic.

Letting out a long sigh, the wind mage decided he really needed to get out of this place. Making his way out, he quietly made his way through the castle halls. Most of the nobles were still asleep at this time of day, leaving only the castle guard to accompany him. And they didn't ask questions or make statements. For once, Merric was thankful for that.

As he meandered around the halls, reflecting on his behavior the last few days- _No,_ he said with a shake of his head, _It's been much longer then that-_ he realized that he had acted mostly in an unsuited rashness.

His wanderings eventually took him to the castle gardens. While it wasn't exactly where we wanted to be, the fall flowers made for a beautiful display. And even in his current mood, he couldn't deny that.

A noise caught the wind mage's ear, and found himself wandering towards it. Looking over a balcony, he saw as Cain instructed a new selection on knights.

Merric chuckled a bit. That was certainly Cain. Driving himself and his students into training before the sun had barely risen. He was never a very militaristic man, but the wind mage still appreciated the work that these people put into their training.  
One of the younger knights caught his attention. Rody, he believed his name was. Merric gave a nod. That would make this group the seventh platoon. Jeigen's most promising students.

A short spear went sailing over his head, just missing him by inches, causing the wind mage to fall backwards out of surprise.

"What kind of throw was that, Rody!? You're trying to _hit_ your _opponent_!" He heard Cain yell out.

Merric sighed. Maybe they weren't quite that good yet...  
With a huff, the wind mage started to pick himself back off the ground, when the same spear went flying over his shoulder back down to the training grounds below. Merric fell backwards again as his balance was lost.

"All that time in your study is hurting your dexterity, Merric." Est said with a laugh, standing over the downed mage.

With some help from the pegasus knight, Merric pulled himself back up. Dusting off his lighter court robes, the green-haired mage gave Est a slightly irritated, slightly questioning glare. "What are you doing out here so early in the morning?"

The pinkette gave a playful chuckle, putting on mock hurt expression. "What, I'm not able to come and watch my own husband at work?"

She had a point. Merric gave a slow, slightly saddened nod. Est looked at her friend concernedly. "You haven't been the same recently. Or sense we came back from the war, really. Your always so distant..."

The worn mage ran a hand through his hair. Est really wasn't going to give him a break, was she? Motioning for her to follow, Merric walked deeper into the castle's gardens.

Est followed silently behind the wind mage, waiting for him to speak as he guided her through the gardens. When he didn't say anything, the pink-haired pegasus rider quickened her pace until she had caught up to her friend.

The moment she made it to his side, the wind mage stopped. "Merric? Where are you taking me?" Est asked. Merric didn't respond, instead keeping his gaze trained forward. Est followed his gaze, right to the onyx monolith that stood in this circular part of the gardens.

The War of Shadows Memorial. "Oh."

* * *

It was still early in the morning, and the Altean League was already on the verge of the Grust stronghold.

Marth rode his horse up to the carriage that carried Nyna and the other non-combatants. Knocking twice on the canvas that covered it, the fair princess quickly stuck her head out. Upon seeing the Altean Prince, she exited the front, taking a seat next to Beck on the coach's front.

"Nyna... Something has been bothering you ever sense we started approaching Grust. If you have something to say... Now is the time to do it." Marth said hesitantly. Nyna looked to the side, away from Marth, for just a moment, before turning back to him.  
"All right, Marth. As you wish. When the Dolhr-Grust allied forces seized control of Akaneia, the entire royal family was killed, save me. I was given into Grust's custody- the custody of the Sable Order, to be more specific. I am told Dolhr wished for my execution- and with it the end of the holy lineage of House Akaneia- and Grust was willing to comply."

Marth looked confused at the princess. "But... You are not dead."

Nyna looked sadly at the shifting ground beneath her. "That is right. I was not put to the sword. The Sable Order's captain came to my aid. His name... Was Camus."

Marth went stiff for a moment. _The_ General Camus, leader of their second most powerful opponents, only behind the Dolhr manaketes, was the savior of Princess of Arkenia?

"Camus protected me..." Nyna continued. "Knowing he would incur the wrath of the Shadow Dragon. He was the one who eventually arranged for my escape to Aurelis."

"I-I had no idea..." Marth stuttered out. For all he had accomplished in the world, he still was a terrible conversationalist.

Nyna shook her head. "I hated him at first. But in time, I found my hatred tempered by the compassion he showed me, my feelings...changed. And now, all I wish is to see him again...But not if it means you and he must fight."

The blue-haired prince gave a slow nod. "Nyna... I cannot make any promises. But I will do what I can. I hope you can accept that."

The princess gave Marth a sad, yet hopeful glance. "Thank you, Marth. I could not ask for more."

An arrow came soaring through the air, landing itself clearly in Beck's gut. The brown haired man slumped into the chair of the carriage, the horses pulling it rearing up as their reins were let free.

"AMBUSH!"

Merric was immediately caught up in the chaos as people scrambled to protect the princesses, get on their mounts and find their weapons. Jorge and Maria made it quickly to Nyna's carriage. The former to calm the horses and the later to tend to the wounded ballistician. Arrows continued to hammer them from the nearby ridge. Minerva and the Whitewings were quickly moving toward the archer's hill, with Cadea close behind.

The wind mage's attention was shifted, however, when a small group of swordsmen came charging down the path they had been on. Merric was thankful to whatever gods would hear him that his Excalibur tome was light enough to be carried around on his person at all times.  
Dodging his way past the arrows, the emerald-haired mage tossed a torrent of air their way. The tempest made full on contact with the first soldier, blowing the man several feet into the air, before landing on another behind him. The next few were downed before they could recuperate as their own archers picked them off.

The wind mage readied another spell, but was interrupted and nearly thrown off his feet as a pegasus crashed not but a foot away from him. Merric shook off his shock, before noticing the sigil of the Arkenian League on the flying horse's armor.

"Cleric!" Merric shouted, trying to pushed the deceased mount off its rider. A head of blue hair caught his attention, if only for a moment. _Catria._  
"CLERIC!"

Maria was came to an abrupt stop as she skidded by next to the wind mage, her already harried face going pale as she saw who the victim was.

Despite the flurry of confusion around him, he took note that the healer with him was. _Maria_. The wind mage shot a quick glance over to the carriage, noticing only Horace, Dolf and Mecellan there, guarding Nyna with their lives.

A javelin flew right over Merric's head, a Grust soldier collapsing right next to them, the sword that he had been holding over his head falling to the blood-stained dirt with a dull clatter. The knight who had saved them jumped off his horse, running to their side to help. "She is stable. Get her out of here, Frey!" Maria said in a tone of dire panic.

The blue-haired knight nodded quickly. Merric lifted the horse just enough for Frey to pull her out, before carrying her away in his arms.

The moment he was gone, a massive eruption of fire went off next to them. Merric hit the ground, the sound of bone cracking echoing in his head as he did.

He tried to push himself up, but lost his balance and hit the ground again as one of his arms gave way under him. Compensating for the broken limb, the wind mage managed to pull himself into a sitting position against the still corpse of Catria's pegasus. He resisted the urge to cry out as his shattered arm flared up. Ignoring the burning pain, Merric shifted himself to look over the dead mount. A small contingent of Grust mage's marched down what had been their formation, tossing about Bolganon and elfire spells like candles. One blast hit Draug, and he went down like a sack of bricks.

The intricate, yet far-beyond memorized incantation rolled off the wind mage's tongue, each breath burning his throat as he clutched the tome tighter in his good hand. The winds of Excalibur picked up again; gale blades slicing through the unprepared magi. Several fell dead as the magic tore into their flesh.

Merric slumped back down, only then noticing Maria's unmoving prone form. _Gods, no._

A powerful, oddly pitched roar was heard, just before a lithe ivory dragon went tearing into the Grust soldiers.

The wind mage's vision started to blur as he tossed another Excalibur down at the enemy ranks. Yells of agony were let free as the arcane wind magics cut them down. Merric gave a grin of triumph, before slipping into unconsciousness. His last thought was of the motionless Macedonian princess before him.

* * *

"-erric. Merric!"  
The wind mage shook his throbbing head, only now aware of the someone trying to shake him awake. Forcing his eyes to open, he was met with the panicked face of Linde. Through the fog of his mind, me managed a smile. A mend staff was still in her hands, glowing as it poured its restorative energies into his battered body.

"Oh gods, Merric. Don't ever do that to me again!" She yelled, the tears that had been forming on the edges of her eyes finally making their way out, slowly leaving their trails down her face.  
Merric slowly reached out a trembling hand, slowly wrapping it around a startled Linde's neck. Before she knew what was happening, the emerald-haired mage had pulled her down into a heated kiss. Linde froze for a moment out of shock, before relenting into the kiss. She could taste the bitter blood on his lips, and he the salt of her tears. They remained in passionate liplock until they had to break for breath.  
"I- I'm sorry." He muttered, looking away, trying to hide his face. Though he didn't get very far, with his neck terribly stiff as it was.

Linde gently grabbed his chin, slowly turning his head back to face her. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, pulling back a second later. She looked sweetly into his eyes, giving a reassuring smile.

The moment was totally disrupted as the wind mage's arm flared up again. It served as a reasonable distraction though, as Merric looked around to survey the damage.

Linde gave the Altean mage a wry smile. "We'll get back to this."

Hoisting himself up on Linde's shoulder, the wind mage limped through what had been their caravan. Several of their carriages had been reduced to smoldering husks, including the one carrying their equipment.

He eventually found exactly what he was looking for in particular. A small makeshift triage center had been set up in the most fortified part of their ruins. The majority of the League seemed to be clustered here, basically everyone who wasn't on guard duty.

Amongst the bodies laying on the ground, Merric could see Lena running furiously between them, with Wrys and Boah working over various people, staffs in hand. Minerva caught his eye as well, the Macedonian princess standing quietly amongst the bodies.

The wind mage let himself off of Linde's shoulder, hobbling over to the crimson clad princess. The light mage walked quietly behind him. Merric came up behind Minerva, placing a hand on her armor-clad shoulder. She didn't flinch. Instead just pulling the white cloth covering Maria closer to her head.

She was breathing shallowly, causing the wind mage to give a sigh of relief, even given the red stains that adorned the cloth.

Minerva shrugged his hand off. "She will make it. The only disadvantage of her injury is we are now down one healer." She said in her ever stoic voice, even if the waver in her tone betrayed her true thoughts.

Merric gave a curt nod, moving again through the crowd. He nearly collapsed to the ground himself as his battered legs gave out from underneath him. Linde and, oddly enough, Minerva, helped him back to his feet. He gave a thankful nod to his two companions, when he felt a new wetness on his hands.

Looking down, the wind mage saw his hand covered in fresh blood. Giving a worried glance to the Macedonian princess, he finally noticed her own blood seeping through a tear in her equally crimson armor.

"You... you need a healer!" Merric said through ground teeth as his injuries flared up again. Linde nodded to her as well "Really princess. You need to get it looked at, in the least, before it becomes infected."

Minerva shrugged it off. "I will have it tended to when the others no longer need the attention of the healers."

Another body joined them, his fair face still wearing a smile despite how exhausted he looked. "Mayhaps I can help?" Etzel said hoarsely, one hand gripping a mend staff for support as the other corrected the cracked monocle on his eye.

Minerva grudgingly accepted the sorcerers help. Merric shook his head, admiring what little humor he could find in the situation. Turning to Linde, the wind mage handed her a small heal staff. She sadly accepted the staff with a knowing nod, leaning the battered mage against a small rock before making her way off to help tend to the others.

Marth took a seat next to his friend, leaning himself up against the stone as he wiped a hand across the stale blood on his forehead.  
"Are you ok?" The blue-haired prince asked Merric, who simply shook his head in response.  
"Did we lose anyone?"

Marth let out a long sigh. "Beck didn't make it. Dolf is looking pretty bad and Arran and Samson took some grim hits. More than half of the League isn't in any fighting shape."

Merric stumbled back to his feet. "See if you can get the tacticians together. We need to plan, now."

* * *

Malledus hit a hand on the slightly charred map of Grust before him. "If I had know we were getting so close to the center of Grust's power, I would have had us under better protection." The elder man growled.

Chris put a comforting hand of his shoulder. "There was no way you could have predicted an ambush like that. Trust me, from tactician to tactician, I know how frustrating it is to have things outside our own planning."  
The elder tactician gave a sigh of defeat, letting his shoulders slump. Running a hand through his ever-thinning hair, he went back to looking over the map.

"We're about here. A bridge connects here," Malledus said, pointing to the indicator on the map. "Over the river, leading into a forest that comes out right at the rear of their main fortress. Palla and Est report ballisticians armed with Pachyderms guarding their fort, as well as several paladins, one who is believed to be the Sable general."

"We would be exposed in the fields to the south," Jeigan spoke in. "The ballisticians would hammer our weakened forces into oblivion. The forest would give us all the cover we needed."

Chris shook his head, looking over the map. "I don't think that would necessarily be the case. The forest would cover us from the ballistae, but the limited mobility would leave us open to the paladins, if they get wise. And the Sable Order has proven formidable thus far."

Marth seemed vexed by his tactician's lack of a conclusion. "How about we take our forces down both paths?" He offered. Everyone looked at him like he was mad.

"Actually..." Chris spoke up, looking back to the map. "That might work. It may divide our already hampered force, we could surprise them with the sheer lunacy of the idea." Everyone shifted their gave to Chris, who pulled at his collar uncomfortably.

"I'm with Chris." Minerva said, pushing her way into the circle of men. "We catch them off guard, as soon as possible. They won't be expecting an attack so soon after they think they have crippled us."

"I agree with Princess Minerva." Hardin said, joining them. "Though, I would beseech her highness to sit the battle out. Your injuries are still to fresh."

Minerva gave the man a sneer. "My dragon is ready, as are the Whitewings. We await your command, Prince."

Marth let his head drop. He was never very good at commanding people. He lack the age or veneration of even Cain or Able to make an excessively useful commander. Even with all his studies in Talys, the command of the last vestige of freedom weighed heavily on him. Why not Hardin or Minerva? Surely, they were more qualified-

"My Prince?"

The azure-haired prince shook the thought out of his head, meeting Minerva's gaze. "Get every able-bodied man and woman together. We march on the hour."

"As you wish, my lord." Malledus said, slightly miffed.

* * *

It hadn't even been a day yet, and Merric was already marching again. He had his armed wrapped tightly to his chest, and while it took away from his manual dexterity, he really didn't need it to use his spells. Chris, Bantu, Tiki, Linde, Marth, Gordin and Horace were with him, trudging through the woods at his side. Just as predicted, the dense foliage was making the trip take significantly longer. At least they hadn't been noticed yet.

The tell-tale explosion of a pachyderm sounded in the distance. Minerva must have engaged the enemy ballistae.

Just on cue, a javelin hit with a dull thunk into a tree right next to the wind mage. His nerves had been sharpened sense earlier, and the usually jumpy mage didn't flinch as we turned and launched a Thoron bolt in his aggressors' direction. A brief yell was heard as horseman and rider collapsed to the ground. A moment later, several more paladins were spotted in the distance. Merric grinned as he heard the dragons transform behind him.

What few paladins had managed to make their way to them were quickly felled between his and Linde's magic, Gordin's bow and the dragon's breath. Chris wasn't proficient enough yet in his magic, so he stood back with Marth and Horace as a defensive screen.

The wind mage hoped silently the other teams were faring as well as he was. The team walked into a small clearing, the edges of the Grust fort barely making itself visible through the tree line.

"With the Gradivus lance, I am all but invincible!"

A golden streak flew through the air, it landing with a rough crack as it pierced the scaled hide of Bantu. The elder fire dragon reverted to his human form, the displaced weapon falling to the ground. A tall black armored man came riding in on a equally armored horse. He picked up the lance, holding it blade facing the wind mage. Tiki had reverted to her human form as well, and was alongside Chris as he tended to Bantu. Merric sent another Thoron bolt at the man, Linde following it up with an elfire. The man held the Gradivus to his face in defense causing the majority of the to blast ricochet off the gleaming spear, though a bit of it made it through, blowing off the man's helmet. His golden hair shone clearly.

The man was about to charge at his opponents, when Marth jumped between them, Mercurius held high. "You!?" He said, faltering a bit. "You gave us the Thoron tome. Why do you fight us now?"

The man nodded his head. "Prince Marth. I am Camus of Grust."

Everyone seemed to freeze. _So this was the man that Nyna spoke so fondly of..._

Marth let the Mercurius fall to his side. "General, I have no wish to fight you. You know this battle is pointless; surely you must!"

Camus' face faltered for but a moment, before returning to his knight's composure. "So long as Grust continues to support Dolhr's ambitions, it does not matter what I know or think. I am a knight; I have a duty to fight for my motherland's glory till the very end."

"But surely-"

"Prince Marth-" Camus cut him off. "There is nothing you can do or say. I am party to your father's murder. Are you a man or not? Draw your sword."

"Stop! Camus!" Another voice cried out, this time causing the man to flinch. Everyone turned to see Nyna running towards them, dress frayed from running through the forest.

The man looked stunned at the princess. "Princess Nyna..."

Linde grabbed the woman's arm as she tried to pass her, stopping the princess in her tracks. "Nyna! What are you dooing here?! This is the middle of a battlefield!"

"I know, I know..." Nyna stuttered, flighting weakly in the light mage's grasp. "But please, Camus, listen to me... You gave me back my life. And Marth, he gave me back my kingdom. I do not wish to see that the two of you fight. It is...it is unbearable. Please, Camus, fight with us. We need your strength. ...I need it."  
Everyone noticed to tears beginning to well up in the corners of Nyna's eyes. Linde faltered at seeing her usually strong princess break down, unintentionally loosening her grip just enough for her to break free.

Camus gave a defeated expression, looking away from the princess. "I am sorry, Nyna..."

Nyna took a step back, holding a hand to her chest. The horror in her eyes could be felt by all present. "B-but, Camus... Why!?"

The golden haired knight cast a hard gaze at the princess, one so cold, yet overflowing with kindness. "Were my heart my master, I would do exactly as you say. But what sort of knight abandons his kingdom- his king!- now, when they need him the most? Would you have me toss away the life I have built as if it meant nothing at all?"

Nobody dared move as the two continued their exchange, though Merric clutched both the Thoron and Excalibur tomes tighter in his good hand as he waited for the conclusion.

Nyna looked like she was on the verge of completely breaking down, her whole body shaking as she fought to stay standing. "N-No Camus... I don't... I don't know!" Tears were now clearly running down her face, leaving red streaks were they fell.

"I have lived as a knight, and I intend to die as one. There are no other roads left for me to walk. Farewell, my princess. I shall never forget our days together at the palace, few though they were. I pray you meet someone who can bring joy back into your life."

Nyna collapsed to the ground, holding her face in her hands as she tried to hold back her undammed emotions.

Camus held up the Gradivus again, leveling the lance again at Marth. The blue haired prince brought up the Mercurius again, though his stance was shaky with uncertainty.

Nobody noticed Chris in the back, trembling with an emotion of his own.

"ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!" The red haired tactician bellowed, surprising everyone with his ferocity. Even the Sable general seemed shaken. "The great and mighty Camus is too much of a blindly following imbecile to break away from an evil that he clearly sees?! All on the premise of 'being a knight'!?"

Camus flinched visibly at the venom being flung at him. But Chris wasn't done. "And I'm sure many agree with me! Just look at the Akeneian league! So many of our own men are defectors that we freed from the threat of death by disobedience to the Shadow Dragon!" He yelled, motioning to Horace behind him. "And when presented with the same offer by the _love of his life_, he, however elegantly, throws it in her face!"

Linde put a hand on the young man's shoulder, trying to calm him down. He shrugged her off violently, taking a step forward a thrusting a accusatory finger out at the ebon clad knight. "I'll just leave you with this, bastard! If we win this and defeat Medeus, every soldier and citizen who stood by their corrupted kingdoms _will_ be branded a traitor! And those who rebelled will be the real heroes!"

Chris just stood there, bristling with the anger still radiating from his body. Camus however, could not meet any of their eyes. He simply looked into the distance, fighting his own emotions. Tiki shyly walked up the man without anyone having noticed her approach. She pulled lightly on the knight's armored leg-guard. "Why do you make the princess sad?"

And that did it. Camus dropped the Gradivus to the ground, the golden blade hitting the earth with a heavy thud. He dismounted his horse and fell to his knees in front of the princess. Nyna looked up, wiping her stained eyes on her dress as she looked at the humbled knight.

"Forgive me. My actions have spoken the volumes that my words spoke against in vain. Even what love for you that I have cannot excuse me of the crime that I almost committed. I indebt myself forever to you, princess. Prince Marth, and you, tactician."

Merric just stood there dumbfounded at what he had just saw.

Nyna slowly stood, adopting the most graceful poise she could. "Rise, Camus of Gurst, who's heart has shown him true strength."

The golden haired knight slowly took to his feet, looking shamefully, weakly to the ground.

_Surely, this can't be the same man we faced but a moment ago..._ The wind mage mused.

Bantu weakly limped up between the princess and Sable knight. "You have chosen well, both of you." He wheezed out, elderly voice sounding even weaker then usual. "I wish you both the greatest happiness."

The moment was completely disrupted, as a battered wyvern and equally abused rider hit the ground. Minerva stumbled off her mount, nearly collapsing herself as her viridian scaled partner staggered to the earth. Both Merric and Linde were quickly at her side, tending to what they could with their heal staffs.

"We... Have taken the strong... hold." The crimson princess mumbled out. She caught Camus naxt to Nyna, his arm protectively around her waist. A small smile played on her face. "General Lorenze would like to see you at the fort, Camus..."

* * *

The sun had set. Merric stood looking out at the stars from one of the fort's windows. Word was that the spineless king of Grust had taken his own life when he realized he had been defeated. Lorenze, the general who had been in command of the fort was in discussing what was to become of their country with Camus. It had been a successful day, a hard one to win, but one won none the less. Even if it had come with a cost. He hadn't talked to anyone about it yet, but apparently, the league had suffered its first real casualties. At least they had what was left of the Grust force and a proper facility to treat their men in now.

Chris came up, silently leaning himself against the sill. "Hey. Sorry for blowing my top earlier." He said with a light chuckle. He was answered with silence. "But, hey, at least it worked, right?" More silence. "Look, I know you are having a hard time loosing people, but it was unavoidable. It was either that, or any other move that could have cost us even more."

Merric shifted his gave to the ground, still silent.

Chris growled, frustration rising again. "Look... Merric. You think you have it tough. Cord just lost his brother!" He yelled at the wind mage's face. Merric looked shocked for a moment, before turning even more gloomy.

Chris looked over his shoulder, having heard something that Merric clearly had not. "Look, Merric. Of all the things you have going for you right now, which includes almost every friend you have ever made, and a major role in what will be the liberation of the world... At least try to do right by her." And then he was gone.

The wind mage rubbed his bruised arm as he thought about the tactician's words. Before he could finish the thought, he grabbed by his good arm and spun around. Linde placed a heavy kiss on his lips, shocking the mage more than anything. After realizing who it was, which probably took more time then the light mage would have liked, Merric melted into the kiss.

"I believe that is where we had left off. " She said, pulling apart for a moment and resting her head against her lover's own.

* * *

That day had forever etched itself into everyone's memory. Both in its joys and sorrows.

Merric approached the slab, running a hand over its engraved obsidian surface. "Wendell..." He muttered as his hand passed over his old teachers name. Est warily walked up to his side, watching the wind mage's hand as it skittered over the names of their fallen friends. "Matthis... Darros... Bord... Beck... Arran... Athena." He let out a sigh, distracting Est for moment. "They even have spots for the giant who helped us during the assault on Grust, as well as Michalis."

Merric's hand eventually came to rest under a single name in particular.

Linde.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE - END

_How'd ya like that ending, huh?_

_Time for a freaken super-long author's notes! First off, I noticed amoungst what little feedback I have gotten so far, that nobody has pointed out the reference in this story's title. But I'll just leave you all to figure it out...  
Next, this chapter actually gave me a rush while writing it. My heartbeat was up and I was all sweaty. No joke.  
And, I would like to congratulate myself on writing a chapter of over 5k words. I'm so proud of myslef.  
On an off topic note, is there anyone else out there who dislikes Malledus' character? Cause he drives me crazy sometimes, with all his explaining all the time. I think that might have altered how I write him, so I appologize.  
And speaking of dislikeing things, did this level give anyone else a heap of trouble, or am I just bad at Fire Emblem?  
Also, for those of you who care, I am a helpless, hopeless romantic, and as of such, I just can't help but slip that kind of stuff into my story. I beg forgiveness if it seems awkward of poorly exicuted, as I have absolutely no firsthand experiance in the field of romance. And not for lack of trying.  
As for Camus... Well, his dying (Even if he technically didn't die) always really miffed me. So now, with the way things are shaping up now, the canon is going to get really different. Let's hope I can pull it off!  
_

_And oddly enough, my other story, **To Live A Dream**, a very stupid Tales of the Abyss story I wrote just to burn time, has significantly more veiws then this, despite the fact that I put no real effort into it. It really hurts my enthusiasm to work on this fic._

_Lastly, I'm going to be taking a break from fic writing to work on some other projects, so it may be awhile before I update again. Maybe it'll happen sooner though, depending on how many hits this story gets..._

_Massive thanks to everyone who has read this far! CHEERS!~_


	4. Chapter 4

**In the Wind and the Light**

* * *

_Chapter Four - Respite in Grust!_

* * *

Merric sat at a desk in the Grustian library, tapping his fingers dully as he mulled half-heartedly over a book. Marth and the other members of the leadership had been busy the last few days preparing for the assault on Macedon, leaving the mage rather bored. Linde and Chris, as well as most of his other acquaintances had also been occupied, which left few of his friends around to relieve him of his boredom.

At least there were places like this to somewhat fix his problem, though what he was discovering through his research was disconcerting at best. A door creaked open behind him, though Merric paid in no mind.

That changed however, as Chris sat himself down on the wind mage's desk, falling backwards onto the books Merric had placed out. Though he was quite used to disruptions like this, Merric still groaned in protest. "What is it you want, Chris?" Merric said with a sigh.

"I just wanted something to get my mind off of things. We are about to attack my homeland, after all." Came Chris' reply, letting out a sigh himself.

"Will you get off my books, please?"

Chris reluctantly complied, rolling off the desk and landing on his feet with a practiced elegance. "What are you reading?" The tactician asked eagerly, his previous solemn mood already completely disappearing, as he rested his elbows on the edge of the desk.

"Just some books on various theories concerning different things. Mostly magic." The mage said, trying to put the disheveled books back into place. As he was reaching for the last one, Chris snached it up from under him.

"Einherjar? What on earth is that?" Chris asked, letting the book drop back onto the desk just as Merric tried to snatch it from him.

Merric ran a hand through his hair, an action that was quickly becoming a nervous habit. "It's a rather disturbing concept in and of itself. It also opens the door for a number of other disturbing possibilities."

"Ok..." Chris drawled, while tracing bored circles on the open pages of the books on the desk. "But what exactly is Einherjar?"

Merric let out a long sigh, gathering most of the books on the desk into a slightly haphazard pile. "Einherjar... Are magical spirits. Summoned by keepers to fight their battles... Or re-enact battles of old."

Chris grunted in response, his acute mind already working out the mage's issue. "Ah, so you're worrying that everything we are going through is simply us re-enacting some age-old ballad."

"Yes... That pretty much sums it up. But, in all seriousness, what if all the pain and suffering, all the battles hard fought and won... What if is all just a cosmic game?" Merric bemoaned, planting his face in his palms.

Chris ruffled the mage's unkempt looking hair, eliciting a groan from the victimized party. The young tactician knew he hated when he did that. "Aw c'mon. If that were the case, then we should still fight like crazy. Give the people watching a good show, right? Because if it's not the case, then it would seriously suck to not have given our all to our cause."

Merric didn't budge, still sitting, head in his hands, resting in his self-induced scientific misery. "But that's not all of it. Even if we are not just characters following a preset course, there are other possibilities. What if we are being controlled by a godlike being? One who rests beyond our sight or comprehension, yet controls our every movement, manages the army? He could decide who lives or who dies. Just to see what happens. He could replay the same moments in history over and over again, trying for different outcomes. A different story told each time, at the expense of our repeated misery. Or worse still, what if we are nothing more then a poorly translated remake to a tale much older?"

A loud snap rung out through the study, ending with Merric on the floor, and Chris rubbing his sore hand.

"Look Merric. That is crazy talk on a level I've never even seen before. Now, you snap put of it and get your act together. We need you. Your a vital part of our army, and none of us need you sulking around like this." The tactician chastised, grabbing the mage and hefting him to his feet. "Now, get out of here. Go find Linde or something."

The tactician pointed a harsh finger towards the door, and the mage complied with a sneer.

Once Merric had left, Chris let out a long sigh. "I'll never understand that person."

* * *

_A/N; I'm not even going to bother reciting the ridiculously long list of why I haven't been writing and updating. Not that anyone really seems to care anyways. FE1/3/11/12 doesn't really get much attention anyways._

_Bonus points to the person who gets the joke of this filler chapter. Which was just written to prove I'm neither dead nor giving up on this story._

_Extra bonus points to the first person who gets the reference in this story's title, because nobody seems to either care or understand it._

_Cheers~_


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